


Do Not Tap the Glass

by alephthirteen



Series: Endangered Species [1]
Category: Jurassic Park - All Media Types, Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: A Wild Kara Appears, Alien Biology, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, CriminalPsychologist!Maggie, Cryptid Kara, Enthusiastic Non-Verbal Consent, Extreme Sex, F/F, F/M, Kryptonian Biology, Kryptonian Culture & Customs, Lena Betrays Lex, Lex Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, Lex Keeps Kara In a Zoo, Uses Elements from "Man of Steel" Movie and Comics But Makes Them GAY, What the Supergirl Movie in the DCEU Should Be If They Make One, Zookeeper AU, feral sex, pregnant!Alex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:27:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27760759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alephthirteen/pseuds/alephthirteen
Summary: Teaching is all well and good but it isn't enough for Alex to raise a kid on.  Especially with Maggie still working on tenure.  So when Lex Luthor (head of the Luthor Institute and the money behind the National City Zoo) offers her a chance for a huge paycheck and exciting research with a newly-discovered species, she jumps on it.ORThe one where Lex is in the board's crosshairs and finds a frozen Kara, then thinks he can put Jurassic Park out of business if he can use aliens for zoo animals.ORThe one where Lena asks the wrong questions and is thrown into a cage with a wild Kara as punishment but they catch feelings instead.
Relationships: Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer, Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Series: Endangered Species [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2031472
Comments: 40
Kudos: 249





	1. Alex I

**Author's Note:**

> In the prequel comic book to the 2013 movie _Man of Steel_ we learn that Kara Zor-El was part of the scout ship that crashed into the Canadian ice 19,000 years ago and was later discovered by Clark Kent before he becomes Superman. During a mutiny, the rest of her crew is killed and she forces the ship to crash. In the comic, she is last seen leaving the crash site and there are ancient First Nation tribes with paintings of the crash and the sigil of House El. This suggests she might have blended in among prehistoric humans.
> 
> In the movie, one of the sleeper pods is empty rather than containing a corpse, confirming that in film canon, Kara escaped. This leaves open a DC Cinematic Universe appearance for Kara and chatter about a project in very early stages has been made.
> 
> I like the idea of a sort of 'missing link Kara' being studied by humans. Even on the show, Kara has big "sweet dumb animal" energy, particularly when pretending to be human.
> 
> I am a sucker for any sort of situation where Lex is trying to get rid of Lena by throwing her in a locked room with Kara.
> 
> So enjoy some:
> 
>   * Super-friends workplace comedy
>   * Alex using sign language to communicate with Kara and realizing she's not an animal at all!
>   * Alex and Maggie pregnancy fluff
>   * Maggie being the founder and chairwoman of the Pregnant Alex is Big Sexy Society of America
>   * Lena being tossed into a cage
>   * Kara bringing Lena fruit
>   * Kara bellowing and doing challenge displays
>   * Lena scratching Kara's ears
>   * Lena being laid gently in a bed of palm fronds
>   * Lena getting some ideas on how to get back at her brother
>   * Lex getting a live demonstration of Kryptonian mating in captivity
> 


**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Alex is a psychologist who does research on primates and she has a new job.

Alex has a ritual when she starts a new job: ride the bike in for confidence. Sadly, the list of 'required tools' she was asked to bring would never have fit in a bike. It would never have fit in Maggie's beloved 'princess plug' either, that silver Subaru with a bedazzled back hatch and two surfboards eternally attached to the rack.

Hence, renting a small U-Haul that drives like a dead whale. Maybe the Luthor Institute isn't really hiring her for her mind, maybe they just want her and her mom's research and devices. Lex Luthor has a scary rep in the academic community. He's probably just going to have someone shoot her as soon as she's buzzed in the gate.

Still. It's an interesting job, because the not-interesting jobs don't come with 200-page non-disclosure agreements she signed, being watched by lawyers so clenched a punch-press and a vat of KY couldn't help them. It's a _lot_ of money. It's enough money to put aside a million for their daughter by the time she graduates college. Once she finishes developing a spine, organs, and nervous system, that is. Alex was too busy puking to nickname the fetus, so Maggie stepped in. 

Regrettably. Cervix-Kicker is just not something Alex can tease her slowly-swelling belly with, at least in public. Maggie's turn, next time. She's pretty sure there will be a next time. Alex suspects that pregnancy sex makes the case for pregnancy itself, in Maggie's view.

Her phone lights up and a bonobo's shrieking voice comes out. Eliza recorded it during the early days of her field work. Alex taps answer.

"Hey, Mom."

"Morning, sweetie. How's the new job?"

Alex scoffs.

"Well, tell you at lunch, how about? I've not even arrived yet."

"Sweetie, I thought they said eight!"

"They said the building opens at eight. They said I needed to be there during both day and night shifts, alternating monthly and that unless my schedule skewed too far off the creature's wake and sleep pattern, it was no problem. Besides. I'm not going to have to drive a goddamned freighter full of our gear tomorrow."

Eliza sighs.

"Sorry, Alex. It's...old habit."

"I know, mom. You're used to calling me to make sure I don't epically mess up my entire life. But I recovered, mom. I got married, so Alex-fixing is Maggie's job. She actually called dibs."

"Did she now?"

"Mmm-hmm. She wrote up a mission statement and everything. I'll have someone in the criminal sciences department send it over."

Eliza chuckles.

"I'll make sure my TA knows to look for it."

"Love you, mom."

"Love you too, brave girl."

The parking lot is mostly empty. Above the armored front doors that belong on a fallout shelter is the Luthor Institute's logo and the tongue in cheek sprig of lilac for the Luthor Institute on Learning and Cognition, pale and purple above the crimson-lettered acronym. There's a loading docks big enough to take in three semi trailers side-by-side and what looks like an entire power substation attached to the east side, where the building meets the rocks behind it. two men in body armor with cattle prods and sidearms flank the employee entrance and a twelve man squad with assault rifles guards the main door. A dome of what must be smart glass soars above the main body of the building, shimmering and darkening as the last of the cloud cover fades. Computer controlled, probably. The shadows of palm trees and other tropical flora are visible within.

The facility is in the far western part of the campus, which itself is easily a half mile from the rest of the National City Zoo. Affiliated with the zoo on paper but in reality, only by the fact that the Luthor family funds most of both the institute and the Zoo's charitable foundation.

If this ever is an exhibit, not only will the creature need to be vetted, understood, a care regimen developed to keep it safe and happy and ready for public viewing, but the whole building would need to be either rebuilt or transplanted.

The whole setup is hilarious. It's like some Air Force bunker got drunk and had a baby with an enclosure from Jurassic Park. Nothing like any of a dozen primate exhibits she's worked with. If's she's allowed to take a photo of it, Alex will send it to her friend at InGen. She'd love to get a photo of their new dinos for her and Maggie's ongoing dog-vs-dinosaur pet argument.

Alex pulls into a pair of empty slots at the far end of the lot and shuts off the engine.

"Exhale," she reminds herself. "Big exhale."

She tightens her fingers on the steering wheel until her knuckles ache and then relaxes. She goes through the ritual. Phone in the left pocket. Pull it out, glance at it, put it back. Repeat once. Keys in the right pocket. Pat four times. Wallet in the back pocket. Pat once.

A quick glance at the vanity mirror shows her surprisingly normal looking and sane. 

A petite woman in a white lab coat with pink and blue scrubs is walking over from the main door. Alex rolls the window down so they can talk. The packet said not to get out of her vehicle until security told her to.

The brunette hooks her hands on the window's edge and leans back. Alex has some personal space -- less than she'd like -- but she really can't blame Nia for not wanting to stand on the ground and shout at the window. 

"I'm Alex Danvers."

"Hi, I'm Nia."

"Just Nia, like how it's just Cher?" Alex says.

Fuck her brain and it's broken filter and the dial that's stuck on auto-flirt. The brunette grins.

"Nah. Dr. Nia Nal. I do our work on comprehension."

"What project?"

Nia rolls her eyes.

"There is only one project here. KR-38."

"The creature."

"Yup."

One of the security guys taps Nia on the shoulder with his metal scanner wand. Others swarm around the truck, peeking under it with mirrors and opening the cargo area.

"Step back, Dr. Nal."

"Aw, Frank! No fun!" she whines even as she steps back.

"Ma'am, please exit the vehicle."

Alex clambers out and wobbles down the stepladder.

"Arms out."

Alex sighs and holds her arms out while she is wanded. A female guard comes over and gives her a deeply uncomfortable, extremely thorough pat-down. Alex counts in her head, backwards and forwards to keep the panic attack stuffed in the can. It takes three repetitions of Pi to the tenth digit but it works. 

"She's clear."

Frank nods to his crew to step back and fishes Alex's lanyard out of what looks like a shopping bag.

"Security lanyard, automatically keyed to all areas for your project and all common employee areas. If you request space access or files or lab materials and it's granted, the system will swap the doors for the duration. Any questions?"

"Nope. Similar system at my last job, jus not as fancy."

Frank hands her the bag. Glancing inside, she sees a company cell phone in what looks like a double-layered titanium case, a similarly overprotected top-of-the-line digital camera, and a taser of all things. The various foil envelopes down at the bottom have logos on them. Best Buy, REI, Whole Foods. Tickets to ComicCon. Alex had mentioned being a gamer in the 'get to know' you part of the third interview and that she and Maggie hiked for their first date. They must have extrapolated ComicCon from general nerdery. They weren't wrong.

Alex turns the Best Buy one over so she can see the amount.

"Jesus."

"I know," Nia chirps. "Great place to work."

"You want me to show you around?" Frank asks. He's put his hand on her shoulder in a fatherly sort of way and Alex didn't even spot it.

"No," she croaks. "I'm good."

"Frank," Nia snaps. "Back off. That's triggering her. Given that there are a dozen shrinks working here, I'd think you'd have learned."

He pulls his hand back like Nia had just stabbed a barbecue fork into it.

"Sorry, doctor. Not my intention. Won't happen again."

"Yeah," Alex huffs. "Most people don't intend to. And I knew you meant it supportively."

Nia rolls her eyes with such exaggeration it makes her fairy-dusted eyeshadow sparkle a bit in the sun.

"Come on, new girl," Nia teases. "I'll show you around."

"She will. She's basically in charge of the pep squad here," Frank teases. "When I started, I gained five pounds from all of the bonding lunches Nia organized."

"Did you complain?" Nia demands.

"I did not. And I do not regret a moment of it, kid. Someone will come unload the truck, doc. Thanks for bringing all your gear."

Frank tips his ball cap at Alex and goes back to the main group by the door.

"My mom's designs too." Alex mumbles. One accidental touch and she's blubbering out self-deprecations to near-strangers.

"Right," Nia chuckles. "The infamous Doctors Danvers. So is your kid going to be a world renowned psych researcher does the third generation ends up a bunch of losers who like, found the next Google?"

"Um, not sure. I have to meet them first."

"Shut the front door!" Nia exclaims. Her smile just went up about fifty thousand watts. "I was just joking but you're actually preggers."

"How ca-"

Alex glances at Nia's nametag. In the lower right is an omega symbol with an F beside it. Curiously, it even has the sub-status there even though that's unnecessary in the case of female omegas given the extremely low variation rate. Alex has never heard of subtypes being used outside of therapy or a doctors office. Using them at work is legal -- probably -- but it's also downright bizarre. As an omega, Nia can not only smell the tiny changes in Alex's scent indicating she's pregnant, she can probably tell Alex what soap Maggie uses, along with her age, ethnicity and most recent rut.

"They categorize us by status?" Alex asks. "How 1890s."

Nia sighs.

"Well, it's actually not so bad. There was a dude in maintenance who I noticed was taking notes on my heat cycle. I mentioned something and the next thing I know there was this absolute unit of a woman from HR sort of shadowing me. Eating lunch, printing stuff to the copier we use, so on. Being obviously nearby and having her eye on him. So they do use the information for the right reasons."

Any competent HR department could handle all that. Nia must realize that too. 

"The creature. The creature can sense human genera and reacts to them."

Nia makes finger guns.

"Bingo. Got a nose like a bloodhound, that one. Even with the enclosure being vacuum-sealed and using completely different air, the creature catches it somehow."

"Why do we call it the creature?"

Nia holds her lanyard up to the door.

"Nal, Nia. Senior Researcher. Omega-Female-Type 1. Welcome."

Alex presses hers to scanner.

"Danvers, Alex. Research Team Lead. Alpha-Female-Type 3. Welcome."

Nia whistles appreciatively.

"I did not whiff alpha on you, not one bit."

Alex shrugs.

"Maybe I'm just a good person?"

"Most alphas are."

"You seeing anybody?" Alex asks.

Nia smirks.

"Oh, God! I mean, in the sense that dati-"

"Relax, Alex."

A puff of fruity calmness spreads through the air and into Alex's lungs.

"I knew what you meant. Contrary to popular belief, omegas don't have a _perfect_ sense of smell. Good compared to everyone else. But it's about a lot more than skin chemicals and brain cells, you know that. Your paper on scent management in the classroom was required reading in my seminar."

"That makes me feel _so old_ , to think that someone who has graduated read that..."

First stop is Alex's desk, which has thumbprint-locking drawers. She puts the shopping bag inside, pulling out the phone and the stack of gift cards.

"Whoa," Nia mumbles, nodding at the Best Buy card.

"New TV time?"

"Gamer."

Nia pumps her fist and offers a high five.

"Hell, yeah. You play any _Heroes' Journey?_ "

Alex grins.

"Silver tier. I'm probably going to use this to get my wife an actual gaming computer. She won't complain if I build it with someone else's money."

The breakroom is stop number one. Somehow, every single one of her team is in here.

"Meet the dream team, boss."

Dr. Kelly Olsen does the research on the creature's ability to be empathetic. Makes sense, given that one smile from Kelly makes Alex feel like she _retroactively_ got hugged at every surfing competition one of her parent's didn't make it to in time. Her brother James works on understanding the creature's strength and locomotion. The way they bicker and tease and jibe each other over their coffee and the LA Times crossword belongs in a Hallmark Channel movie about realizing how important family is before it's too late.

Susan Vasquez (not a PhD, she corrects) is apparently an ex-Navy trainer who works with the team to try and understand how the creature sees its environment. Three sentences worth of quizzing confirms that she is exactly the person for the job and she put up with Alex's knee-jerk issues about non-PhDs with a shrug and a laugh.

Dr. Winn Schott works on the creatures intelligence level and language recognition. Probably also works on it's menswear skills, if his vest, slacks and glasses game is anything to go by.

"Nice to meet everybody. Looking forward to working with you," Alex tells them and for once, she means it. Usually at this point in a new job, be it teaching or research or that nasty stretch in college where she did sales calls, she's hunched over with stress and hoping to postpone barfing and scratching her skin until she can hide in the ladies at lunch.

This just feels like a family reunion, somehow.

"Where should I start?"

Kelly looks at Nia.

"Wanna meet her?"

"Hell, yes! It's been creature this, and creature that, and the whole interview had a 'hypothetically' at the start of every sentence!"

The main enclosure is a large circular space in the center of the facility. It is ringed by labs, except for one portion which is a wide hallway that's a straight shot to the loading docks. There's a locked metal clipboard hanging on a hook next to the glass which is tinted opaque. Alex picks it up and holds her lanyard up to it.

The file is labeled _Homo giganticus arctis._ Says they discovered her alone, hibernating in a cave on Elsemere island in the Canadian arctic. 

"Homo?" Alex asks, glancing up at Nia who nods eagerly. "As in hominid? All the questions I was given had me thinking Macaque monkey, at the upper end."

Kelly scoffs.

"Misdirection. Those questions are scaled down. I thought the same thing. I came in here thinking she was able to detect suffering in others, maybe attempt bonding if we had any of her own kind for her to bond with. Ha! She has a different funny face she uses for each of us when she's having a bad day."

"They way she arranges those rocks and plays with the fruit pulp, I'm about ninety percent sure I'm the dumb one," Winn adds. "Just can't prove it without language or writing to give any kind of intelligence test."

"Ready?" Vasquez asks.

She has her thumb hooked into the 'off' switch for the glass tint.

"Ready to meet the only known specimen of the only remaining species of hominid besides us? No. But ready as I'll ever be."

The glass goes from black to clear almost instantly.

"Fuck...me...sideways."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like using ABO to mess around with ideas of gender and reproduction and how it affects society. The variation in bodies leads to lots of fun writing about how people handle it. So while it's not traditional ABO, I like this idea that the genitals, body, and psychological aspects of gender move independently to create each persons gender. There are also some additional differences (like an alpha's gait, an omega's incredibly keen nose or a beta's reflexes) that go beyond the reproductive.  
>   
> Components of physical gender:  
>  **Alpha** , **Beta** and **Omega** refers to psychology and pheromones. Things like submission, dominance, rut and heat instincts.  
>  **Male** and **Female** refers to overall body type, in terms of skeletal shape, muscle mass, height, presence or lack of breasts, vocal cord length, and so on.  
>  **Type** refers to genitals and gonads, the specifically sexual and reproductive organs. Type 1 is "aligned" genitals, Type 2 is "inverted" and Type 3 is "adaptive".   
>   
> Examples  
> Alpha male with a penis is Alpha-Male-Type 1.  
> Alpha female with a vagina is Alpha-Female-Type 1 and one with penis is Alpha-Female-Type 2 because the latter is capable of producing milk but lacks the ability to carry a child to term. The reproductive functions of her genitals do not match other sexual characteristics of her body. The term "inverted" comes from the fact that one body part is aligned to one part of reproduction while others are aligned differently.  
> Any individual of any status with both is Type 3 and can sire a child (or carry one) by any possible partner.


	2. Lena I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where it appears that the termination process for members leaving the Luthor Institute's board of directors is not being properly followed.

Lena mashes the enter key over and over, as if that'll make the email go faster. There's pounding at her office door.

 _Whoosh!_ The send email sound hits Lena like a dose of heroin. When she locked herself in here she thought she was dying for nothing. Now, at least Lois Lane has a copy of her findings on Luthor Foundation's financial dealings and insider trading.

"Open the fucking door, bitch!"

There's a crash and the file cabinet Lena pushed in front of her office door shimmies back a half-inch. They must have wised up and brought a battering ram.

 _Whoosh!_ Iris West has Lena's records of employees that went 'missing' over the last year.

The hiss of an acetylene torch on the other side of the door and a spray of sparks on this side mean's it's inevitable. They will get in.

_Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!_

So goes the full dataset of Luthor Dynamic's military projects.

FBI. CIA. British MI6. Russian intelligence. Chinese.

One of the emails isn't automated. The one to post a dark web link to her findings about Luthor Institutes genetic and bioengineering research, illegally performed on the mainland rather than an island. Even the dino-spewing cretins at InGen had the common sense to put their deathtrap parks on remote islands, not in suburban National City. If she lets it out, a public panic is a possibility, once the information leaks past conspiracy theorists, at least.

She sends it.

The sparks have crawled halfway down the door now. One more blow with the battering ram and they have a shot. The top half will be gone and they can aim.

Lena yanks the computer's power cord, slashes the hard drive cable with an utility knife, and carries the hard drive over to the metal-working machines in the corner of her office. She programs the mill to produce three ball-bearings and aligns the lasers to the hard drives platter.

The top half of the door comes off behind her. Lena flicks the sweaty hair off her temples and tucks it behind her ears.

Lillian would be so disappointed if the cops found an _unkempt_ corpse once her golden Lex was done with her.

"Sister, sister, whatever have you done?" Lex drawls.

"What I sent is all on the computer over there. As to who has it and how it's encrypted? I really don't remember," she sighs.

She nods towards the ruined hard drive, which has been ground and punctured and shaved to produce the bearings.

"I'm afraid I never made a backup."

"Fuck," Lex snarls.

She got Lex to curse in front of his men. Victory enough for one lifetime.

"Take her."

She lets the goons cuff her.

"Oh, and I injected myself with an agent that reacts violently with truth serum drugs. Violently and fatally."

"Which ones?" Lex demands.

"All of them. And I put an implant in my teeth with 2 grams of high explosive. So electrocuting me is out. We'll have to make a deal the old fashioned way, brother."

Lex's pained bellowing is so sweet.

\-----

They don't torture her. Not on the first day, or the second, or the third. On the fourth, Mercy Graves comes in, looking rather embarrassed. She beats Lena for two hours but Lena's seen Mercy in action. One time, five fratboys tried to pull Lena into an alley. She did more damage to them in ten seconds than she's done to Lena all day. She's making a show but she hasn't -- yet -- readied herself to hurt Lena. What shrivels of conscience Mercy has won't let her hurt Lena, who occupies some crevice in in Mercy's mind where other women have maternal instincts.

"You know, Mercy. My greatest fear..."

Mercy's fists stop halfway to Lena's strapped-down fingers.

"Is being alone in the woods," Mercy mumbles. "I remember."

She stands up and walks over to the door.

The guard answers after the fourth knock.

"I have an idea."

\-----

She doesn't see Mercy again. So either Lex realized that Mercy was helping her and had her killed, or the plan worked and Mercy is laying low. Someone puts a bottle of water, yellowish and tangy-smelling. It might be piss. It's been eight days. She doesn't care. It's not. Hard lemonade. Tasty, in fact. Weak enough that she'll get some hydration out of it. Dangerous cycle, drinking enough of this to not die of thirst means risking a drunk confession. Refusing it is suicide. Killing her is their job and if they don't have the balls, she'll find a way to escape.

An empty eyed orderly comes in after two more days. Injects her with something. Massive syringe. Directly into the vena cava.

As the sedative takes hold, something from Lena's first-aid classes comes floating through her brain. A warning about using the wrong emergency drugs. If an omega is injected directly into the vena cava, a dose of heat breakers can cause a coma.

Lena really _hopes_ those were heat break drugs, not heat inducing drugs. She did her part by alerting the world. She might as well die and barbiturate overdose is good as anything. One last embarrassment to the Luthor name. The bastard daughter who couldn't hold her liquor.

If it's heat inducers, the plan must be to drop her in an alley in a part of town with a high crime rate. Maybe cut her up first, make her ugly. Embarrass the family one last time. The bastard daughter found unfucked and seized to death in an ally. An omega so undesirable not even heat and being tied to a dirty mattress could get her mated before she died.

Was the tech's uniform marked with a blue logo? Something something medical center? Maybe a psych ward? Was it the pastel pink logo?

"Fuck," Lena slurs out. "Pink. Fertility clin-"

\-----

The world comes and the world goes. Sweaty. Slimy. Aching. So empty. Like her organs were removed and she's still alive somehow.

She's aware of a soft surface at her back. Hard ropes at her ankles and wrists. Her brother's baritone, the words lost to the vaseline-thick mess of her heat headspace.

They leave her this way for a day, or three. She's not sure. 

When they bring in a doctor, he slaps her awake.

"Fuck you!" Lena snarls.

He's a beta, with a silver flecked-beard and bottomless brown eyes.

"I don't want to be either either, love."

"Then why are you?" she demands

He looks at her. The look. The look of someone Lex has broken.

"My wife."

"They have her."

Jack nods.

"I'm going to do a pelvic now, all right? And I am so incredibly sorry."

Lena bites her lip and lets the tears come.

\-----

Jack is conferring with Lex in the corner. Lena catches bits and pieces. Ovulation timetables. Androgen and estrogen. Hydration and dilation.

The dance of the omega. Melt. Want. Lust. Offer. Take.

Lex claps Jack on the shoulder and leads him to the back door of the room. The lock scrapes in the mechanism -- so loud on her hyped up senses -- and then Jack's crying and a woman is babbling in Hindi and kisses and shushing and it's all right, for them.

"As you see, I am a man of my word, Dr. Spheer. See that you keep yours."

Lena's gurney is tilted back vertical and she's wheeled down a long hallway. A pair of armored doors buzz open.

It's a goddamned zoo enclosure. Gorilla enclosure, from the look of it. It reeks of maleness. So much so it's almost human. Almost sweet, even. A scent she wouldn't mind nuzzling into at night, if she didn't know it was a beast's. Lex himself unclips her and tilts the gurney forwards, spilling her onto wood chips.

"Quite the specimen, I hear. She's used up three omegas so far," he sighs. "Maybe you'll fare better. Maybe you'll live long enough to get a pup in you. When you are ready to talk, press the red button."

Classic good old boy alpha thinking. Like many a single omega, Lena has guiltily indulged in rut non-con fantasies. So that's not quite the threat he thinks it is. Loss of control over the body and second-guessing whether it was consent or just surrender to the heat is Female Omega 101. She could maybe power through that. Close her eyes. Remember boarding school. Andrea and her flashing blue eyes and her exquisitely shaped cock -- ladylike, somehow -- long enough to slam the breath from Lena's lungs and her long hands closed over Lena's neck. Her affected machismo. Taking Lena like she was a mafia boss and Lena was some worthless whore from the back streets. Fulfilling that and an other roleplay Lena wanted.

This is a goddamned gorilla though. That's beyond the realm of kink.

She's in a puddle of light but the rest of the enclosure is dark. Too dark to see anything past her ankles.

That's when she hears it. Huffing. Panting. Too loud and to _big_ a noise to be human lungs. Squelching. Grunting. Moaning.

A face spills out of the dark into the light. Matted blonde curls. Blue eyes glazed over with orgasm, drugs, or maybe in shock. The grunting increases in pace.

"So good, so good..." the blonde mumbles, throwing her head back and forth.

A roar splits the air. Loud as a lion.

The blonde groans and her head sags back into the woodchips.

"Christ," she sighs. "I'm always so full."

A trickle of white fluid rolls along the wood chips. What would be an impressive load for any man, and this is just the overflow. The runoff. The _waste_. Maybe Lex crossbred a gorilla with a rhino. There's simply no way that a human did that.

The blonde's jizz-slicked hand emerges from the dark and waves.

"Hi, Lena."

"Eve Tessmacher? Fuck. I thought you got fired."

Eve laughs and laughs.

"Not quite."


	3. Required Readings, Lesson 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the Book of Genesis tells the story of how God created the Alpha, the Beta and the Omega, and how they disobeyed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought it would be fun to come up with an ABO version of the Adam and Eve bit, especially one that contained seeds of the dynamic in it. I also wanted to tweak the bit where it's Eve (or Omega's) fault because I think that the Bible as it is gives a lot of cover to sexism and violence against women "because Eve did it" and I wanted to write a different slant in this in-universe telling of it.

### Genesis Chapter 2:15-41

  
**15** And the Lord God took the man, who he named as Alpha, and put him into the garden of Eden to dress it and to keep it.

 **16** And the Lord God commanded the man, saying, Of every tree of the garden thou mayest freely eat:

 **17** But of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.

 **18** And the Lord God said, It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him an help meet for him.

 **19** And out of the ground the Lord God formed every beast of the field, and every fowl of the air; and brought them unto Alpha to see what he would call them: and whatsoever Alpha called every living creature, that was the name thereof.

 **20** And Alpha gave names to all cattle, and to the fowl of the air, and to every beast of the field; but for Alpha there was not found an help meet for him.

 **21** And the Lord God caused a deep sleep to fall upon him, and he slept: and he took one of his ribs, and closed up the flesh instead thereof;

 **22** And the rib, which the Lord God had taken from man, made he a woman, and brought her unto the man.

 **23** And Alpha said, This is now bone of my bones, and flesh of my flesh: she shall be called Beta, because she was taken out of Alpha.

 **24** And the Lord God told them to multiply, that Beta would lie with alpha and bear him sons.

 **25** And Beta laid with him, and Alpha took her as the cattle take each other. Yet she bore him no sons, nor daughters.

 **26** And the Lord God was wrathful, that Beta would not bear fruit, and cast her from the garden.

 **27** And Alpha wept, crying that he had no help meet. That every beast had a beast like it to lie with and he did not.

 **28** Now the serpent was more subtle than any beast of the field which the Lord God had made. At at night, he crept to Alpha while he slept. He said unto Alpha, Yea, hath God said, Ye shall not eat of every tree of the garden?

 **29** And the Alpha said unto the serpent, We may eat of the fruit of the trees of the garden:

 **30** But of the fruit of the tree which is in the midst of the garden, God hath said, Ye shall not eat of it, neither shall ye touch it, lest ye die.

 **31** And the serpent said unto him, Ye shall not surely die:

 **32** For God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil.

 **33** And when Alpha saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, he took of the fruit thereof, and did eat, and fell unto a sleep like death.

 **34** And as Alpha slept, the serpent struck him and bit him, and the blood did pour into sand, and did stain the fruit.

 **35** And the next day, Alpha awoke, and saw a creature like him, but comely and ripe. He named her Omega and she lay with him, and Alpha lay with her, and they moved as do coiling snakes.

 **36** And within her, his seed quickened, and she was with child.

 **37** And they heard the voice of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day: and Alpha feared God would be filled with wrath, for he had disobeyed the Lord God. He bade Omega hide herself from the presence of the Lord God amongst the trees of the garden.

 **38** And the Lord God saw Omega, and great was his wrath, for Alpha had disobeyed. Beta had been made from soil and breath, and made by god. Omega had been made from blood, and lies, and made by man. She was unclean.

 **39** And the Lord God struck Omega, and cast her out of the garden into the desert.

 **40** And the Lord God commanded Alpha , follow them not, lest ye die. For in the garden, the years of your life are as grains of sand beyond counting. But they are unclean, and they are wicked thus the years of their lives are seven score and seven.

 **41** And it was night in the garden, and Alpha did not sleep for he could hear Omega's cries in the desert. He sewed for himself a rope of bark and reeds, and did scale the wall and leave the garden.


	4. Alex II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where the pregnancy books didn't cover this in enough detail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Maggie, like many alpha-alpha marriages and particularly _queer_ alpha-alpha marriages, engage in casual sex with others, in their case female omegas. Maggie settled into the thriving queer female alpha scene of Los Angeles and National City as a teenager after fleeing her family. Gloryholes, knot clubs, alpha dens, queer-friendly brothels, and prommi-ommi (promiscuous omega) parties have featured in her life since her late teens. 
> 
> With her more picket-fence upbringing, it took Alex a long time to get used to it.  
> \-----  
> OB/GYN = Obstetrician/Gynecologist  
> portmanteau = new word from combining two old words, like 'smog' from 'smoke' and 'fog'

Alex scrubs her too-tired eyes with the back of her hands. The more she learns, the more she sympathizes with Lex Luthor's decision to keep this all under wraps. The "creature" is anything but animal and would pass for human on the street. Found in a cave sealed shut by ice since 17,000 BC in a region now populated by the Inuit, a non-white, stocky, and dark-haired people, KR-38 is blonde haired, blue eyed and _massive_ at seven foot even and two hundred twenty. She was found frozen solid in a state of hibernation that humans cannot survive. She metabolizes tranquillizers faster than they can be pumped in. Her caloric intake is enough to feed a team of weightlifters, raising some very interesting questions about how her metabolism works. The file marks her as female, alpha, type 3 but Alex hasn't been privy to direct evidence like an andro-estro spread from bloodwork, or footage of phallic descent, rut-sickness, or anything like that. She's willing to take it on faith, given the beast's size. A human female could be that big, but only if she were an alpha with excellent genetic potential, incredibly high sensitivity to androgens and growth hormone, and perfect diet...and none of the diseases that typically cause such extreme height. It would take Alex weeks of dedicated research on JSTOR, Wikipedia and probably RutHub (and warning Maggie not to panic about her browser history) to find out if any other female alphas are as muscular. 

The only thing obvious about KR-38 is that she's similar to humans, but not actually human. Some yet unknown precursor to _homo sapiens,_ is the working theory.

So the decision was made to treat her like a moon rock. The facility keeps her air and water on a closed loop. All food and water she is provided are introduced via double airlocks by haz-mat suited staff. A variety of animals and plants have been introduced for disease checks. Diet appears to be vegetative, as even after being denied food for two weeks, she did not kill or eat the rabbits. Much to the caretakers chagrin, she also didn't let anyone _remove_ them and now the west half of the half-mile wide enclosure is a rabbit warren.

When they couldn't remove the rabbits with KR-38 defending them, some cretin of a pathologist decided to do an autopsy in the enclosure. Euthanizing a rabbit while she watched. He proved something. he proved how lethal this beast is. Six guards and the offending tech killed in four one-hundredths of a second. Security cameras recorded that before she struck, she made some sort of hand gesture, over and over. Six shapes over and over. Maybe some form of sign language or gesture, at least to her. Probably telling the tech not to and then striking when he disobeyed.

She is horny for the science of it, of finding out how such a smart animal really thinks, and if it has languages and spaces of the mind like humans do. Alex also needs to honor her medical oath. She needs to figure out how to communicate to prevent any further misunderstandings.

Nia keeps pushing a crackpot theory that KR-38 is a space alien, despite the fact that the likelihood of a visually human species evolving on another planet is essentially zero. That's how Nia got the nickname 'Dreamer' around the office.

There's a knock on the inside of her office door.

"Working late, boss?"

Alex groans.

"I was going to. Maggie put you up to this, didn't she?"

Kelly laughs, liquid and warm.

"Nia. She's already working on the baby shower, you know that."

Alex sighs. She wonders if she can write up a subordinate with flawless work product for backseat-driving and wife-conspiring-with during her pregnancy.

\-----

The best thing about being married to Maggie is the love. Second best is the food. Third best is the sex. A sane woman would flip that around, given how often Maggie's left her juiced, boneless, and sighing in bed and at least one horizontal surface per room. 

Not Alex. Alex is well aware she would have starved long ago. As soon as she moved out for college, it became clear that she is hopeless in the kitchen. Takeout, milking subpar boyfriends (later on, subpar girlfriends) for pizza night, and anything that was boiling plus a sauce packet got her through college and the early years of med school. Part of Maggie's vows were to 'save my wife from Ramen' and everyone on Alex's guest list knew it wasn't a joke.

She opens the email app and looks for Lex's reply. He agreed to let Alex talk to Maggie about KR-38, with a pile of stipulations, redactions, analogies and code words. He shared a story about how he and his sister Lena developed what he called 'unhealthy metallic codependency' when talking through the thesis projects on their respective engineering degrees.

Alex looks over the list one more time. The smell of carnitas, tortillas and rice fill her nose. A bare foot nudges her thigh.

"Phone," Maggie demands, holding her hand out.

Alex hands it over. Maggie looks at the case, flicking the doors for the ports open and shut.

"Jesus. They planning on sending you to Afghanistan with this thing?"

"The animal I'm studying broke a couple of the keeper's company phones."

Maggie fans her face and swoons.

"Do I finally get to hear about this mysterious beast? It's okay," she whispers. "You can tell me what kind of dragon it is."

She bites into the burrito. The moan is lurid enough that Maggie's eyes catch hers. Food is not the reason Alex usually makes that noise.

"So it was worth making up with my mom after all," Maggie chortles. "Clearly, the family recipe book _can_ get me laid."

"Yes," Alex replies. "Yes it can."

"Tell me about the creature."

"It's a primate. Somewhere between a chimpanzee and a gorilla. Close enough to us to have alphas. Smart."

Maggie whistles.

"ABO is supposed to be a human-only thing. Don't tell the Pope. You planning on teaching it to sign?"

"Yeah. Soon as they let me in the room with it."

Maggie digs into the bowl she made for herself, then tears off a bit of tortilla to gather the salsa off her chin.

"My god," she mumbles, rice dropping into her lap. "I'd fuck myself for this."

Maggie starts talking about a case study she's doing for the FBI. Somehow this requires her foot landing in Alex's lap, pushing against her clit against the denim. Every class she ever took leaves Alex's brain as blood moves southward.

\-----

Alex's white knuckled grip on the bathroom stall has begun to hurt. Her lip bleeds from how hard she's biting it. It's like she's trying to give birth to her large intestine, wriggling and oversensitive. Logic and anatomy be damned. The pain empties her, huff after huff and grunt after grunt.

"Boss?" Nia asks, followed by a pheromones in a ginger-spicy cloud of solidarity. The nearby omega isn't frightened, and is here to help. Alex's body translates that into a wave of chilly relief that dances across her skin.

This isn't cramps.

"Eleven years of medical training and I didn't realize it was my dick," Alex whisper-scolds herself.

In her defense, this usually feels good _._ It's normally a reaction to arousal and Maggie and pheromones passing between them in a loop. Revving each other up, daring each other's libidos to move faster and faster. Maggie will tangle their fingers and yank Alex close with all her might. Then one hand drops to cup Alex's mound and she growl it into her ear. _I want your cock,_ Maggie says, and just like that it will slide free, like a magic trick. Dropping from its nesting place above her cunt as tendons and muscles loosen. Her balls drop next, relieved in the cool air, firming up. Messy. Dripping. Slickened with the juices the two systems share. Hard from the woman in her arms.

This unsexy and painful but this is female alpha pregnancy, in all its odd geometry. Her body decided that space needed to be made for the growing child. Crazy early, at eleven weeks with the fetus the size of a fig. No one asked her opinion on the matter.

Alex digs in her brain for memories. Maggie, spitting on her hand before snaking it into Alex's jeans at the movie theater. Maggie, rolling over in bed with a drowsy laugh and telling Alex what donuts will be needed for aftercare. Maggie, leading fuzzy-headed, red-cheeked Alex through a den club, snagging a playmate and tossing her into the next booth over with a sharp growl. Sliding behind Alex, nosing into her neck and tonguing the bite scar as her hands drags the zipper of Alex's pants down. Telling the omega on the other side of the hole how she likes it. Maggie, in Julia's bed, with their shared booty call spread out in full, heat-loosened glory and playing their patented scissor-oral-fingers game of chance to determine Alex takes Julia in her mouth, her ass, or her cunt. Always letting Alex pick first if there's a tie.

It works. Before Alex can prepare herself, her cock slithers free with a rush of slick. The shaft grinds past her clit, drawing out a quick, pathetic orgasm. As per Murphy's Law, she wore a dress today because she and Maggie were going on a date. A rather expensive dress, by professorial standards. The inside of the skirt is now covered in sticky, musky strands of slick and come. She didn't wear nice lingerie; she's not an idiot. Over the last couple of weeks, hormonal stupidity struck. Now an email from Maggie or a love-you text is enough to ruin a pair of panties and leave Alex with a grin worthy of a lunatic.

"Hey, Nia?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you go to my desk..." Alex begins before shame clamps her jaw shut. She's going to have to say it. Say it to a _friend_ who is _her employee_ and she wonders if the fancy toilet can be reprogrammed to drown her.

"Go to your desk and..." Nia prompts.

"Target bag. Sweatshirt and pants," she huffs.

"Copy that."

Alex catches her breath, then spanks the toilet paper roll over and over. She starts cleaning up. Nia's a good kid. In both the psychological and physical sense had painful days herself--phantom ruts colliding with her _desired_ heat cycle--and she and Alex worked out a system. With it, Alex could sneak her pot chocolate from the cooler in Nia's car, sign it in on her behalf at security, hit the vending machine and meet her in the breakroom like it's nothing. Their friendship started out the way a thousand five-minute friendships do in bars. Nia asked for an opinion and Alex assured her she looked cute and that her blind date would love it. The guy turned out to be a moron but the resulting debrief cemented their dynamic.

She's not sure how someone can go from acquaintance, to best friend, to kid sister in less than a month. She only knows Nia did.

It will probably take her ten minutes to run the whole route and Nia will probably switch it up, too.

She applies probably a pint of hand sanitizer out of her purse and then pulls out her cell phone and texts Maggie on her personal phone.

* * *

** My Everything **  
  
[image.jpg]  
  
  
you are doing it wrong  
supposed to get hard before sending a dick pic  
wait  
yeah  
  
stuck with it  
  
for at least seven months  
  
i am not mad about that  
  
that, I believe  
  
it hurt?  
not exactly? dunno...feels weird  
  
question  
are you at all turned on right now?  
not really  
  
oh, good  
hoping it gets even bigger  
oh, god  
  
yup  
no pajamas for wifey  
how am I the one who tried to degrade herself into being straight with shitty boyfriends and YOU are the size queen  
  
research ongoing  
don't pretend you don't love it  
guessing you don't want to go to Gio's tonight  
OB/GYN said it'd be sore   
it's getting better but not fast. not up to dressing up  
  
rain check on Gio's  
  
sure, babe  
[attachment.pdf]  
let's do this instead  
what the actual fuck  
  
ELIZA SENT THIS?  
  
it's actually a wedding present from her  
she told me to sit on it a while  
think she knew you would need it when you got pregnant  
i am NOT going to a den club on a lifetime membership you got from MY MOM  
  
Jesus   
  
you are Jewish  
still  
  
https://the-foxes-henhouse.com  
page four, bottom left  
FUCK  
  
right? she's hilarious. and performing tonight  
...and Julia just said she's free  
fine. but the usual rules  
  
sharing is caring

* * *

"Alex?" Nia calls.

"Come in."

Nia sets the bag on the floor and then tips it over, nudging it under the edge of the stall with her foot.

"Thank you _so much_ , Nia."

"I'd say it's no big deal, but I know it is for you."

"Yeah. I was not planning on this happening at work."

"Pretty sure you don't plan pregnancies down to the minute."

"You would know this how?"

"Because I bought three books on friendnancies the day after you told me."

"Friendnancies?"

"It's when your BFF is pregnant. Like the books for dads, but the perspective of a friend."

"Right," Alex huffs. "You kids and your portmanteaus."

After a humiliating series of contortions, she manages to get the dress off. That was the easy bit. The hard bit is figuring out what all these pouches and pockets in the underwear are for.

"Nia, super personal question. Feel free to kill me if you don't want to answer."

"I was on hormones after ten, but surgically transitioned when I was nineteen. So yeah, I've done compression shorts and pouches. Banana first, then apples."

Alex stares at the inside of the stall door.

"How the frilly hell did you know I was going to ask that?"

"You're pregnant. Female alphas who get pregnant end up with the floppy bits on the outside for the duration. You came in a cute dress but just now asked me to grab you messy sweats and wet wipes, so it was an easy guess. According to WebMD, you all don't really have those come out except for playtime, so I figured you might not have had to put clothes on them before."

Alex wishes she could think herself dead right now. She hops into the sweatpants and pulls the shirt over her head. Nia's hand appears over the top of the stall and she makes a grabby motion.

"Hand the dress out, I can send it to my dry cleaners. Pay me back tomorrow."

"Nia, it's fine."

"Alex, how often have you had to have a dress dry cleaned for that?"

"Never."

Nia laughs.

"Whereas I was president of an all-omega sorority. Spent my entire sophomore and junior year living in a blast oven of synced-up heats. That isn't even _close_ to the messiest thing I've had to send to Francine's. I think Delta Theta Omicron put two of her kids through school. She sends me a Christmas card every year."

"Thanks. But if you do that, you're officially adopted."

"As if I wasn't the moment Eliza learned my name."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought about putting the sexy in this chapter too but I decided that it would be an Alex+Nia supportive best buddy chapter instead.
> 
> Stay tuned for Alex wing-womaning for Nia!


	6. Maggie & Alex I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where there was only one chair...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This multi-part chapter is a low calorie food. Contains the following natural flavors:
> 
> * ABO predator-prey roleplay (faux "wolf" behavior)  
> * Aftercare  
> * Anal  
> * Breeding kink  
> * Breathplay (minor)  
> * Consensual non-monogamy  
> * Double penetration  
> \-----
> 
> I wanted to base The Foxes' Henhouse on a New York City club I read about (name escapes me, sorry) that operated for many years with a sort of wink-wink policy where any men present were there on behalf of female guests and they mandated a more or less 2:1 ratio, meaning that they avoided scrutiny more easily as it was a place _women_ gathered and if any gay or bisexual men were there, the excuse was they were guests.
> 
> So this is a club with all-female membership but men are allowed, after vetting, so long as they were invited and escorted by a member.

The member lot is small and the gold member lot is smaller still. Perhaps thirty stalls and mostly full.

Maybe when you spend this much on VIP access to a sex club, it makes sense to spend every weeknight there. Eliza didn't volunteer a number for the membership she bought Alex and Maggie but both she and Alex assumed that a down payment on a house would be Eliza and Jeremiah's contribution. She probably went with this out of fond memories of her own years studying at UC National City. If she and Jeremiah ever shared a omega playmate, it would've been somewhere like here. Somewhere deniable. Jeremiah barely clocks as alpha, he's so soft spoken and non-confrontational. Eliza and Maggie share a committee in the faculty senate and Maggie once had to deal with the unbreakable authority that is Dr. Eliza (nee Goldstein) Danvers tearing into a misogynistic engineering professor. Hands flat on the table, back straight, head high and her spring-sky blue eyes pinning him to the whiteboard with her glare. Like some queen of Israel right out of the Old Testament. Every male alpha in the room had tilted his head, baring his neck. The art history professor was one seat from Maggie, panting and flushed and looked like she was about to slick herself right out of her chair. 

For her part, Maggie was having some _deeply_ uncomfortable realizations about how much she likes the smell of Danvers women filled with righteous anger. Maggie went home wet and in a weird sort of rage, like a Viking berserker. Alex was not teaching that semester and it wasn't _essential_ that she be able to walk the rest of the weekend. Since then, Alex has gone with to faculty senate as a buffer.

"Look, babe," Julia whispers, pointing at the engravings in the concrete of the marked stall that Maggie is gradually working their Prius into, sliding it between a Range Rover and a Suburban.

"AD and MS, sponsored by EG?" Alex mumbles. 

"Founder sponsored," Julia adds, pointing out something in smaller print and filling the right half of Maggie's vision with creamy cleavage and her lungs with candy-sweet scent of a willing omega.

"I fucking knew it," Maggie chuckles. "Your mom was one of the people that started this place."

"No!" Alex squawks. "Absolutely fucking no!"

"You park," Julia chuckles, "I'll distract her from herself."

Alex's seat drops back with a series of clicking noises. Julia gets out of her seatbelt, slides forward into the passenger seat so easily it's like she was made liquid, unzips Alex and swallows her soft cock to the root.

"Let me park first!" Maggie teases with a sharp slap to the omega's upturned and undefended ass.

Julia pulls back long enough to smirk over her shoulder at Maggie and _Jesus fucking Christ in a golf cart_ it's sexy the way she looks with her face half hidden by Alex's hastily rearranged windbreaker.

"Finally," Maggie exclaims, when she sees that they're safe from the barn doors of the gas guzzlers on either side.

"Don't finish her," Maggie growls. "Not here."

Julia goes rigid, yielding to Maggie's tone and scent. When she recovers, she pulls off with a pop, leaving thin strands of spit and pre shining in the streetlights.

"Yes, ma'am!" Julia laughs, tucking Alex back inside her pants despite a series of protests made of sounds Alex must have thought were actual words.

"Shall we escort the young maiden inside, Ally-cat?"

Alex manages to get upright -- no small feat, given Julia's skills -- and offers an elbow for Julia, who hums and takes it.

Maggie's only been here twice. Once for Sam Arias' bachelorette party and again for her thirtieth birthday party. Both times, they had the dance floor, and a shared playroom.

This afternoon, Maggie had the luxury of going through the entire video tour and picking from a menu of options while making reservations.

The Fox's Henhouse is what happens when a city is equidistant between LA and 'Frisco. It has the glitz of some ghastly mansion built for some overcompensating film producer and inside it, the carefully guarded treasures of the alpha-on-alpha movement's female incarnation, the one spared the AIDS crisis but subjected instead to slut-shaming, harassment, and organized campaigns of forced outing. Firebombed a dozen times in the 1960s when it was held in peoples homes. Now this palace of pink marble, glass, and stainless replaces those loaned homes and stands on millions of dollars worth of land. Packed night after night. Happy. Safe. Untouched by the storm and froth of the pastors who park their raging, slur-flinging sheep at the far end of the driveway. The private property line is a half a mile from the front door.

Yet there's still grunting and wet, nasty noises and stains chased by a small army of maids. Padded stalls with holes in both walls, brass railings and pulley-mounted anchors so the space can be adjustable to how far apart an omega's cunt and mouth are. Whining gimps in zipped-up latex. Mewling pets of every status, naked and wanting while mistress ignores them for a cocktail with her friends. The ancient treasures.

Is it a place of conspicuous glamor and pride parades or a secret tradition of salty, sweaty, sticky wickedness? That unresolved conflict is part of why Maggie loves it. Henhouse doesn't fit together, even with itself, which she has always felt is a nice nod to queerness in general.

The founding site of the franchise is the often-expanded National City location. It's the only sizable knot club for almost three hundred miles and the only _reputable_ one for a hundred. A polished façade of stones handpicked for their creamy shade and the hue of the veins shot through them. Each slat curated to match its neighbors and also to match the bare breasts of the zany architect's favorite fuckbuddy, a ghostly ginger with skin so pale it seemed translucent on opening night. Runoff from the pool on the roof tumbles over the stone into a decorative moat. Inside, the various lounges and some of the suites are dominated by the white leather couch and and aluminum-and-glass coffee table school of interior décor. Half the private suites are 'cabins' rented to individual members, complete bedrooms, kitchens, and living rooms with cozy duvets and fireplaces and and squashy futons. Big beds and cotton sheets warm enough to get through the rut shivers alone in a pinch but not heavy enough to cook an omega's guts while she waits for her heat buddy. The exact right color, weight and fabric to forgive the greasy, squirting, leaking puddle of bliss that is a female omega in mid-heat.

Alex nearly fainted when Maggie told her about the movie theater. On paper, it's for actually enjoying a movie but some clever asshole found leather seats that can be folded into couches in seconds and angled them so a partner can lay down and give head for _hours_ without cramping their limbs. Rumor has it the popcorn buckets have specially-perforated bottoms. The movies are chosen for campiness and queer cred, mostly by member polling. Every summer _Terminator 2_ manages to climb to the top of the list. Alex's favorite since childhood. One day, Maggie will maneuver her cutely shy wife into that theater, get down on her knees and rewire Alex's entire brain.

There are three lines snaking in the front door: alpha, beta and omega. The line of omegas waiting for the non-member slots is Hollywood sleek and wine country cozy. The betas are a random sampling of every sort of woman there is with no particular pattern or demographic. As if a gaggle of movie starlets in plunging necklines and thigh-baring skirts had been sprinkled with programmers, restaurateurs and and dog walkers whose yoga pants, windbreakers, peasant tops, Converses and Birkenstocks break up the body-glittered mass. It's Triumph Thursday, a biker-themed promotion so the alpha line is what Alex likes to call 'peak Maggie'. The women are a blur of toned arms and denim, of red, blue and black flannels, biker jackets, military boots, tank tops and chapstick-only makeup regimens. Two or three high-femme alphas looking deeply out of place in their matching dresses of peach silk. Given that there's two similarly dressed ladies in the beta line and one in the omega, it's probably a bridal party. 

A handful of men are sprinkled in, sticking close to their dates and looking around like wolves that just realized the sheep outnumber them fifty to one.

What binds the entire crowd is that they're girls who want to kiss girls or they are here as a guest of a girl who wants to kiss girls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a tease and it's good stuff I want to share, so I'm going to drip this goodness over a couple short chapters and then merge it back into one so you get more sooner.

**Author's Note:**

> ##  Feeling posh? [Try these!  
>    
>  ](https://rb.gy/b1fjhr)
> 
> ### Like it? Hate it? Have questions? Come holler at me about fanfic!
> 
>   
>  **Tumblr**  
>   
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>   
>  **Twitter**  
>   
> <https://www.twitter.com/AlephWrites>  
>   
>  **Discord**  
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>   
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> ** (codex for my DC-universe fics with expanded info, broken into sections per story)  
> <https://kryptowiki.stufftoread.com>  
> 


End file.
